


we rise, we fall, together we stand tall

by commodorenewt



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Graphic & Non-graphic Depictions of Violence, Hunger Games AU, Multi, Nightmares, PTSD, Peter Pan is not Malcolm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorenewt/pseuds/commodorenewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killed or be killed. A line that Henry's heard over and over again the past few years of his life. He's never understood the feeling until he was sent into the Arena. He won and like any other sane person, he would never go back again... The Hunger Games was supposed to be just a mere memory to the Nolan Family but somehow it’s managed to worm its way back into their lives. How are they going survive this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	we rise, we fall, together we stand tall

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!:) I hope you all are having an awesome day. This is my new story. Haha. It’s a Hunger Games AU. This story wouldn’t have been written if not for HOLLOW-LUNGS and STONEWALLABY who encouraged me too much. You guys can blame them for it. Some people who’ve listened to me whine and helped a bit - ABADDOME; CARNATIONS-AND-HUGS; NICOINNEVERLAND.
> 
> I have to warn you, before you start reading, that I haven’t read the books completely; I’ve only watched the movies because I suck like that; hey yo. I’ve skimmed through the books and I’ve done my research but if I made mistakes, I deeply apologise. Some of the details were manipulated to fit my story, so if you don’t like that or you’re not cool with that… well, I’m sorry about that too.
> 
> I tagged this with Hunger Games since it still included some of its Characters like President Snow.
> 
> I reposted this because I felt like I waited to long to post the remaining parts of the story. And I'm lazy to cut into proportions. Hahaha :)) My apologies for the grammitical errors and lapses. I'm lazy. But I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading!:)

August's mouth went dry, he didn't know if he could say the name printed on the piece of parchment in his hands. He looked up, stealing a glance at Emma who didn't miss the look. Emma's eyes widened, August could practically hear Emma say 'No' next to her mother. Mary Margaret kept her hand on Emma's, she gripped it as soon as she noticed her twitch in her seat, her grip was firm, keeping her in her place. Emma was shaking her head, as if pleading August to say another name, any other name except the one the paper but he can't. Not because he didn't want to, he wanted to, he so very much did, but he didn't know the names of the other boys in the district. He only knew of this boy's. He only knew one name and it was the one written on the piece of paper. He should have chosen the one paper beside it. August sighed. He looked at the Peacekeepers; he could tell, they were looking at him behind their helmets, calculating whether or not he was going to be a problem or not... If he didn't say a name now, the head of the peacekeepers will take it upon himself to read it for him. 'I'm sorry.' August mouthed to Emma. Emma looked devastated, her whole world crumbling down to pieces because this can't be happening. "The Male Tribute for District 12 is... Henry Mills."

Henry's whole life flashed through before his eyes open hearing August say his name. He could hear his mom and grandmother yelling their protests but he couldn't make out the exact words they were saying. His mother and grandmother being victors in previous Hunger Games, they were wealthy and lived comfortably. They taught him how to fight, how to defend himself but never did he think that he'd really need it. He never thought he was going to use it. He was already 16 years old. He was almost done, just 2 years more and he won't have to worry every time there was a reaping. He was almost free from participating from it, but now he was far from free. He was stuck in the middle of it. The girl... Alice was already on the platform, she was giving him a sympathetic smile. It was comforting; she was trying to comfort him.  But it's ridiculous, when you think about it; she was also being sent to her death, how can she smile that reassuringly at him, like everything will be alright? Even if they did manage to survive until the end, only one of them could survive. Only one of them could go back home to District 12. Henry had a feeling it won't be him, He did not want to want to kill anyone to survive, and he didn’t want to feel that need... He didn't want to kill anyone. He was afraid but Alice was there smiling at him like everything will be alright; she’ll make sure that he gets home to his family alright, will she? He wanted to ask but that’ll be unfair. He took a deep breath and tried to smile at his family. He was okay, he’ll be okay even though they both knew there was a possibility it won’t be true. The only upside in all of this was that he will be with his family before he needed to march to his death.

It was dark, there was a mind numbing pain shooting from his leg to his brain. He opened his eyes and he was back in hell. But he didn’t really realise that he was just visiting that place just yet. He moved just as he remembered. He saw Alice standing beside him. Her arrows were running low but they were enough to take out the remaining career tributes with them. Henry killed his fair share but his hands were still trembling as the blood got on them. Alice hauled him up, pushing him up the ladder located at the side of the Cornucopia. “Hurry up Mills!” Alice said, grunting as she stabbed another tribute in the heart. She didn’t enjoy killing but she wanted both of them to survive or at least Henry to survive. Henry deserved to live. Henry was able to get safely on top of Cornucopia, successfully dodging the arrow directed at him. He helped Alice get on the Cornucopia. She was standing there, grinning at Henry; all of their enemies were defeated, now it was a question how they were going to both survive these despicable games. It was barbaric. How can the 12 districts agree to this? They weren’t toys. They were humans just like the people in the Capitol. Henry looked at the sky, glaring at it. Henry then remembered the berries in his pocket. He pulled Alice closer, he dug in his pocket pulling the berries out and showing them to Alice. The girl looked up at him, looking into his eyes, silently asking if he was sure about the offer. He nodded and they were about to eat the berries when Alice slumped forward. She was just standing in front of him. She was smiling, it was pleasant, accepting. She accepted their fate. It was supposed to be their fate not only hers. _Theirs_. She didn't groan out in pain, she just fell in Henry's arms. Henry's eyes widened, catching Alice in his arms. Alice was dead.

August's eyes shot open, hearing Henry's screams and yells through the thin metal that separated their quarters in the train. August made his way towards Henry's room, bumping into Killian in the halls. They both scrambled to get up to get to the young victor. Killian got to his feet first, anyone who was watching would think they were competing with one another but they weren't. It wasn't a game to them, not anymore. The door opened and August ran to Henry's bedside. Henry was still tossing and turning, crying out every now and then. It might have been going on for the past few hours and he didn't pay mind to it because he was too tired. He should have been listening. Because if he was, he would have known that it was only a matter of time that he would be screaming and cringing in his sleep like this. "Hey." August tried to wake Henry by shaking his shoulder lightly. Henry didn't feel it though; it only made it worse if Henry's screaming for Alice was anything to go by. Emma and Mary Margaret came running inside when Henry started crying hysterically. "Henry!" August shook Henry's shoulder harder. But it went ignored like the first one. "Henry!" August yelled, practically lifting Henry off the bed and then dropping him over and over again. Ever since the boy came back from his Hunger Games, he's had nightmares haunt him at night and even though he knew that his family heard him, he acted as if nothing happened the next day. They all knew how he felt, they all understood. Killian, Emma and Mary Margaret went through it and now they had to go through it again. "Henry!" August yelled again, shaking him harder (if it were possible). He took the teenager's face and started slapping his face hard. It seemed to work but the teenager wasn't snapping out of it. "Damn it, Henry! Wake up!" August snapped, hitting his face, the impact harder than it was intended to be. He pushed the adults away, giving Henry space to breathe.

Henry’s eyes finally flew open; there was a moment of panic going through his mind it was noticeable on his face. Emma knew that look. It was the fear that he was back in the Arena again; where he had to kill to survive again. It disappeared as soon as it appeared. He relaxed when he found his loved ones surrounding him. His hand flew to his face, glaring at August. “Oh fuck, did you really have to slap me so hard?” Henry asked. “That hurt!” He pushed the adult away from him. August smirked, rolling his eyes fondly at his young Victor. Emma shot her son a look of disapproval for his foul mouth. Henry caught her eye and smiled sheepishly back at her. “Sorry. But… it really hurt.” Henry told August who just ruffled his hair.  Emma sat next to him and pulled him closer to her. “I’m fine, mom. I’m sorry for waking you.” Henry wrapped his arms around her. Mary Margaret sat behind Henry, ruffling his hair and sighing. The monsters never stopped tormenting them. Emma had her demons but she became stronger when Regina brought Henry to her after her reaping. She needed to be for her son.

Henry was running around the room, looking at the different trinkets inside his mom’s room while his mom looked out the window. Henry watched as his mom smiled sadly at him as he accidentally dropped a vase on the floor. It didn’t shatter since the floor had a carpet and it didn’t fall from a high place. He didn’t understand what was happening; he didn't understand why his mother was sad. Earlier that day, boys and girls lined up in the town square like what happened every year ever since he could remember. His grandfather called it the reaping. It didn't sound so scary but everyone looked so scared and sad. He remembered his mom making him stay with his grandfather during that time. He remembered Grandpa Henry crying when Regina's name was called out. They were calling her a tribute of their District along with another boy. Regina then took him from his grandpa and somehow managed to smuggle Henry into the train. “Henry, can you come here?” Regina asked, her hand gently patting the space next to her. Henry carefully ran towards her, jumping up on the bed next to her. “Do you remember when I told you that I’m not really your mommy?” Regina asked, gently running her hand through his hair.

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed and nodded seriously because his Mommy looked serious. “But you still love me like a real mommy!” Henry said, smiling brightly at the young woman, the serious look disappearing on his face. “I know that, mom. I still love you like my real mommy too!” Henry told her. “Am I going to meet my real mommy?” Henry asked, tilting his head, regarding Regina carefully. “Why are you so sad mom?” Henry asked her, moving closer to the woman. He wiped the tears that Regina didn’t realise were falling down her cheeks. “Don’t cry mom. When you’re sad, I get sad too.” Henry told her, his lips quivering. Regina sighed and kissed his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“Yes, you’re going to meet your real mommy, Henry.” Regina told him. Regina didn’t want to give him back to the woman who abandoned him when he was just a mere child. But… it was better than leaving him with her father who had other kids to worry about. She knew he’ll care for him, of course he will, he saw Henry as his grandson now… Staying with his Grandfather Henry wouldn’t give him the best chance he got, she wanted Henry to have everything he deserved and that was a better life. Emma Swan can offer Henry a far better life than she or her father could… She must put her son first; she must. She was Henry’s Mother; being recruited into the games didn’t change that. Her giving Henry back to his biological mother didn’t change that. Her chances for survival in the Hunger Games were high. She wasn’t an idiot and she knew how to survive… but her chances of never returning to see her Henry grow up to be the amazing young man she knew he will be in the future were high too. Emma Swan needed to take care of Henry just in case she didn’t survive. She knew once she opened the door, it can never be closed again. But it was for Henry’s own good and that’s all that mattered. “You’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

Henry could remember that day. He remembered how his mom kissed his forehead before pulling him towards the other room to meet Emma and Mary Margaret. It was scary and he held on to Regina tightly that he knew that he must have hurt her a little with his grip. But the moment he saw Emma Swan… he knew. He just knew that it was her. He saw the familiar structures of the capitol and couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped his lips. Henry looked disdained remembering the fame that came with the winning the Hunger Games. He hasn’t gotten used to the fame. He hated being famous for what he did. He _hated_ it. Being one of the Nolans’… he was known as one of the people who made winning these events a family business. His mom and his grandmother both won the Hunger Games, they went through everything he went through but they were able to defend themselves without anyone’s help while he… If he could be honest, he didn’t care about the Hunger Games. If he could be honest, he’d tell all the people listening how barbaric he thought it was. His friends died in those games, one of the most important people in his life died in those games. It wasn’t business. It wasn’t fun… not for any of them.  It was barbaric. But speaking his mind would equate him into being considered as a traitor to the capitol and it will endanger everyone he cared about. The train went through the familiar tube and he sighed again. “We’re here.” Henry sighed, looking at the four adults with him.

Henry hasn’t gotten used to the fame… he doesn’t think that he’ll ever get used to it. It’s been almost a year since his victory in the Previous Hunger Games and it’s never made sense how people could love those games or how other districts train their children to do it, how they instill into them that it was a great honour to participate and win the games. It wasn't. Henry didn't know why or how the Capitol did it. The way the fans of the games has been flocking over him… it was unnerving. The people of the capitol… well; most of them anyway, saw the tributes as a form of entertainment. They were mere objects their government used for the Capitol’s amusement. The show dogs of their time as some of the workers in the Coal Mines in District 12 would call the tributes. Henry walked closer to the windows, watching as they approached (too fast, in his opinion) the Capitol Station. He needed to paste a fake smile to greet his fans with. Emma’s hand landed on his shoulder, surprising him. Emma didn't look happy, but that was to be expected because he knew she hated this more than he did. She would usually stay back, somewhere fans wouldn't see her but this time, it was different. He glanced at her back before looking back out the window. “We’re just a bunch of figurines inside a snow globe to them, aren’t we?” Henry couldn’t help but ask his mother. He plastered the fake smile on his face when the window started to brighten and the flash of the cameras hurt his eyes. The windows became bigger as it was replaced with a two way glass. The feature of the train allowed outsiders to see inside, to peer inside their lives, to look at them like a bunch of animals in the zoo. “They said it will be all over. They said once we win, we didn't have to do it ever again.”

Emma gave a heavy sigh, not bothering to fake a smile because she wasn’t looking at their so called fans. She had her back turned towards the window. “I know, kid.” Emma sighed, squeezing his shoulder. She turned her head, giving the crowd a smirk and a roll of her eyes. “But something’s been stirring in the districts.” Emma muttered under her breath, stealing glances at the two male adults with them. August and Killian chose to stay away from the crowd’s eye because they were both drunk out of their minds. Killian’s idea most likely.  Henry didn’t seem to hear her last statement though because his attention was on trying to keep his façade believable to the crowd. It was a good thing he didn't. She didn’t want him to know… just yet. “You’ll get through this.” Emma told him quietly, assuring him which apparently was the worst possible thing she could tell her son at the moment. He shot a glare at her, making a disapproving sound. He stepped back and moved away from her. He made his way towards the back where the private rooms where located. He might be headed back to his quarters.

“Not the best thing you could have said right now, my lady.” Killian said, appearing next to her with a glass of scotch with her name on it. Emma looked at August who was making his way to the back, following Henry to talk to him most probably. Killian didn't seem to be as drunk as she thought he'd be. “He’s not happy that you volunteered.” Killian told her. "Well, none of us are happy in any of this. Mary Margaret is still pissed at you." He threw his head back, downing the contents of his glass before turning towards Emma. “He already lost his other mother to the games; he doesn’t want to lose you too, love.” The crowds cheered when he touched her cheek. Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. The supposed love story between the famous victor Killian Jones and Emma Swan has been well-received by the districts and the Capitol. It was one of the distractions that the Capitol took advantage of. Killian went along with it while Emma… well, she begrudgingly went along with it. They would have killed her family if she didn’t. It wasn’t hard to love Killian… it wasn’t hard, it was so easy that she honestly didn’t know what kept her back. Maybe it was the fear that she’ll become everything she didn’t want to represent...

“I know.” Emma touched his hand, squeezing it before letting her hand fall on her side. It earned another cheer from the crowd waiting for them to leave the train. “But… he’s more important to the cause than I am.” Emma told him, Killian nodded, knowing this. Henry was the one who was brave enough to defy the Capitol during the Game Proper, where everyone could have seen it. “And’ more importantly… he’s my son. If anyone has to die, it’s me for him.” Emma sighed, she moved towards her mother who was sleeping comfortably in the chaise lounges. They haven’t talked since she volunteered in Mary Margaret’s place. She couldn’t let her mother go in there… not again. She didn’t want Henry to go in there with her either. She’d rather it be Killian than her son. Killian promised her that if Henry got picked, he’ll volunteer in his place but it went the other way around. Henry volunteered with no second thought, he didn’t even think about them, how his family would feel. She somehow understood, of course why he had to do it. Henry didn’t wish anyone to go in there for him. It had to be him and no one else. Killian knew that somehow the boy thought he deserved to die because he was supposed to die inside that arena with Alice. If his plans were to be followed, he should have. He didn’t deserve to die though, not more than any of them. He survived and that’s it.

August stood in the town square much like he did years before. Four of the most important people in his life were standing next to him, two each on side. The two women whom he has learned to love like a mother and a sister. And the other side, the two men (boys) whom he has learned to love like a brother and a nephew. "Like always, ladies' first." August moved closer to the ball near the girls. Emma hoped that it was Mary Margaret's name on the sheet of paper and not hers. _Mary Margaret's and not hers_. Emma wanted it to be that way. August reached inside the bowl where two pieces of paper rested on the bottom. Emma took a deep breath and only let it out when August's hand was leaving the bowl. August took a deep breath before opening it, casting a glance at his friends. Emma didn't understand the look though. He didn't give a hint at whose name was on the paper. Emma wanted to hit him on the head. Was it her? Was it Mary Margaret? God Damn August for choosing now to be mysterious. "And our female victor tribute for this year's Hunger Games is... Mary Margaret Nolan."

"I volunteer." Emma said before Mary Margaret could move.

"No!" Mary Margaret said, pulling her daughter back. "No!"

"I volunteer." Emma said, looking into her mother's eyes before turning to August who was nodding at her statement. He expected it and he was quite thankful for the outcome because no matter how strong they believe Mary Margaret was, they were sure, she wouldn't survive these games. She'll be dealing with more experienced killers, more disturbing and sicker killers than she met in her games all those decades ago. Mary Margaret will die for sure; at least Emma had a chance... Mary Margaret's tears began falling and Emma was breathing hard, trying to calm herself. "I volunteer." She repeated again. All of the memories of her Hunger Games began flowing back to her, coming back like a tsunami at a prepared city. No matter how prepared it was, there were still unavoidable effects and casualties.

August then turned to the male victors. Killian knew what to do if Henry's name got chosen and Emma hoped that Henry wouldn't do what she knew he'll be planning of doing when Killian's name gets picked. But as sure as anyone was when Mary Margaret's name was chosen, Emma would volunteer, Henry will volunteer on behalf of Killian. "Now for the gentlemen." August said begrudgingly. Four adults' wishful thinking as against a teenager’s... They'd be stronger, wouldn't they be? August slowly walked over to the bowl containing the two pieces of paper that held each of the male victors’ names like the women's bowl. He took a deep breath before reaching inside and quickly retrieving one of them. August walked over to the microphone once again. "For the male victor Tribute..." August started but stopped mid-announcement, his mouth drying once again. He was reminded of his announcement of Henry's name the year before. He wanted to say Henry's name but the Peacekeeper's guns were aimed at them. They were watching him like a hawk. He turned towards Emma who understood the look. She nodded, knowing the inevitable was about to happen. "Killian J –"

"I volunteer." Henry said, facing August. The man didn't even finish saying Killian's name.

"No!" Killian pulled him back, shaking his head at August. "You're not going to sacrifice your life for mine.”

“Then who else am I going to sacrifice it for?” Henry said, removing himself from Killian’s grip. “You can’t stop me. You have to let me go.” Henry told him. Everyone was always saving him, it was time he stood on his own and Killian didn’t deserve to go in there again. Henry did. He stood beside his mother and they held hands, lifting it up to show they are united. Henry could see his grandfather from where he stood. The old man had a grim expression on his face but he could see that he was proud of Henry. He formed the salute of District 12. The three middle fingers of his left hand, he pressed them to his lips before raising it up for everyone to see. Everyone didn’t seem surprised at the gesture. Ruby, Granny, Archie and almost everyone in the town square did the gesture. It was the symbol of respect in District 12.. It also meant ‘ _I love you’_. Peacekeepers then grabbed them by their arms, pulling them inside the big house. “I have to say goodbye.” Henry told them. He needed to say goodbye to his grandfather because it might be the last chance for him to see him, to hug him. He might be dead! He might not get another chance to. But the Peacekeeper’s grip on his arm was strong and unrelenting. He caught a glimpse of his grandfather and communicated the words he didn’t get to say through his eyes and his grandfather seemed to have understood.

Henry was trying to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. The bed was as to be expected… to be as comfortable as his bed was in their but something wasn’t right as he laid there. He settled on lying on his back, staring at the monochrome ceiling. In a matter of a week, he’ll be in the arena again. It just sunk in his head that he’ll be in the arena again. He volunteered to be part of the barbaric games of the Capitol again; to be part of the distraction that the Capitol wanted to give the Districts so they will be placated once again. He knew he did the right thing though. No one deserved to go in the arena again. No one, if any one of them had to go, it should be him. Henry might have suffered too but he was supposed to die there with Alice, he wasn’t supposed to survive. He wasn't supposed to win. He didn't deserve to win while the others… they really won because they did what had to be done to win, accident or not. Killian never recovered in losing his best friend, Milah in the games. She was mutilated to death before his eyes and he never got over it, hence the drinking problem. They said that you only had one wish in the Hunger Games… and it costs more than life itself. Henry closed his eyes and when he finally felt sleepy enough, the noise in his brain was only a buzzing… August chose that moment to knock on his fucking door. “Henry! We need you in the common room!” August yelled through the door, it was followed with another round of knocks.

Henry groaned before sighing as he pushed himself to get up. He looked at the clock and groaned again seeing that it took him an hour to actually get himself in the mood to fall asleep. It was wasted because now, he needed to wake himself up. Another round of knocking came at his door. "I'm coming!" Henry yelled as though he was being called for a family dinner. It was far from it though. They were about to discuss the other chosen victor tributes. They needed allies Killian said. Henry wondered how they'll be able to trust them and he knew his mother was more sceptical about it than he was. He left his room and dropped on the space next to his mother as soon as he was in the living room. He grabbed one of the throw pillows and hugged it to his chest.

"Good of you to join us, lad." Killian smirked at the teenager. Henry stuck his tongue out at Killian before turning towards Mary Margaret and the television screen. His grandmother had a blank look on her face. She looked unamused about all of this. Henry knew that Emma somehow managed to make her mother talk to her but everything... It was still weighing down on her. Her daughter and grandson were going to participate in the Hunger Games... Again. Her reaction was reasonable, of course it was but she can't honestly blame them for doing what they did because she was planning to do the same thing if Emma's name was picked from that bowl. Mary Margaret wasn’t giving Henry the cold shoulder that much though. August cleared his throat, turning the attention to him.

"Last year's or any of the Hunger Games you've been in will be nothing compared to this year's Games." August told them. "The people you'll be with are experienced Killers." As if on cue, the screen behind August lit up and 22 pictures of both young and old adults appeared on the screen. On the background were shifting video streams of different victories that the chosen victor tributes had. Most of the wins were brutal, especially from the 1st and 2nd districts. It was so bloody compared to others. "Last year was child's play. This year... It's the major leagues, my friends." August said, feigning excitement. It ended quickly with the look that Emma sent him. He licked his lips and turned to the screen. There was a familiar face that caught Henry's eye though, an all too familiar one. "You might recognise some of the faces you see on the screen. Some... Most of them are considered as the best in their districts." August turned to the screens and sighed. “Let’s get started.”

"The first district." Killian said, pressing a button on the remote. Pictures of two guys moved forward. "As you all know, normally, tributes are supposed to be a boy and a girl but some of the districts pulled some strings and managed to send people of the same gender." He looked over his shoulder, sighing. "Meet Ramsay Snow and Reek Iron." Killian moved to the side to allow them to see the screen properly. Henry noted the quite disturbed expression on Killian’s face. "This pair are two of the sickest bastards you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting." Killian told them. "Ramsay Snow won his Games during the feast. He and the other career tributes killed all the other tributes during the bloodbath." The picture of the thinner man moved to make space for the video of Ramsay Snow's win. Ramsay Snow's picture was a bit of a disturbing too. "He killed the other careers during the feast. While they were eating, he pierced his spear through all of them. Sick bastard, really." Henry scrunched his nose up as the video showed what Killian was describing. It was bloody and sick. Ramsay stood there laughing through it all. "Reek won by dropping a grenade during the feast. Not all died, so he took the weapons of the fallen tributes and threw it at the survivors." Like Ramsay Snow's introduction, Reek's victory video was showed next to his picture. It was bloodier though than Ramsay’s.

"So they're in the must avoid list?" Henry asked, averting his eyes from screen. It was sick. It didn't help that these two enjoyed killing. The video was then changed to the video of them getting chosen as the victor tributes. They had smiles on their faces but their eyes were murderous. They didn't look happy but a little proud. Ramsay smirked at the camera before turning to his partner. Henry could tell that both of the boys on their screen already knew how to defeat each other. "I don't think I want to be allies with them." Henry confessed, shaking his head. "So the goal is to find the least likely person or well, people to literally stab us in the back?" Henry asked.

"Exactly." Killian smirked. "Ramsay's smart. He's easy to kill though because he's quite cocky and he doesn't know when to shut his fucking mouth while Reek... He's a good killer but a bit of a brawn. The brains of this pair is Ramsay, that's for sure." He pressed another button and another pair of pictures appeared again. It showed a picture of a blonde man and a brunette woman. The blonde man was fair looking. He had golden blonde hair, bright eyes... If Henry was being honest, he looked attractive but a bit crazy. The woman was beautiful. She had a smirk on her face, she looked smart. "These two. Joffrey Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell. Joffrey won by aiming and shooting everything that moved. Margaery won her games by appearing to be a helpless damsel. You know how that went. When everyone thought the threats were removed… she struck them and well, she won." Killian explained how their dynamics will work in the games. Joffrey was apparently good with the crossbow while Margeary was good with her mouth. She can sweet talk anyone. The trick to the pair was not to fall for Margaery's charm. Like the first two tributes. Baratheon and Tyrell had the same expression on their face. They looked happy but murderous. "Next two tributes. Bran Stark and Jojen Reed. These two are intelligent. Bran is one of the greatest warriors you'll see. Nothing less is expected of the prodigy of Jaime Lannister while both he and Jojen were mentally trained by Tyrion Lannister. Did I mention they're brilliant?" Killian looked at the District 12 Victors. “Jojen won his games by not eating the poisoned berries. And the remaining tributes, well he got his hands bloodied. Bran… as I said is a great warrior. He defeated his fellow tributes and well, won.”

"Wait, they're like married or something, right?" Henry asked. The love story between Jojen Reed and Bran Stark was real from what Henry heard and seen the last year. They were really sweet. Jojen got reaped four years before Henry did and Bran two years later of Jojen. They were engaged even before Jojen was reaped. They were young, really young but Jojen, Bran, both of them were sure that they were both it for them. They were one of the few that didn't let their story be taken advantage of. The pair didn't bother to look happy like the first two pairs of victor tributes. They look disdained, they also didn’t look proud like the first two did. Even with the urges of their escort to smile, Bran and Jojen weren't happy and they weren't inclined to fake that they were. Henry liked them. The next pair made Henry sit up though. He felt his heart beat faster and his mind became blank. His blood ran cold. "I know that boy." Henry said, frowning. "That's Peter Pan."

"Ah yes, quite right." Killian smirked. "Peter Pan. Among all the surviving victors, he's the absolute best one and the youngest too to ever become one. He won his Hunger Games at the age of 13. He is as skilled as they come. He won his hunger games with the help of a net and sharp weapons. He's the darling of the Capitol. He’s a powerful lad." Killian told him. "His Partner in the Hunger Games, Felix Croft is his best friend, very loyal to him. Ruffio, another one of their band of lads, was killed a year after Felix won his Hunger Games. Felix won his Hunger Games by outsmarting everyone. He’s very skilled in combat, he killed the career tributes first before turning to the other districts." Killian told him. "Going back to Pan… Peter Pan is a little demon; I'll give you that, mischievous fellow. Exactly your type, Henry." Killian smirked at the young victor. The man seemed to forget that this man killed his Mom.

Henry rolled his eyes and flipped him off. He won't ever forget the boy's face. Sometimes his face haunted him at night, in his dreams; years even before his own reaping. But now instead of the boy’s face, he saw the President’s face. He didn’t blame Regina's death on the District 4 Victor anymore. He knew now who was really responsible for his mother’s death or was it murder? "He killed my mom." Henry said, sounding dazed. Killian's smile disappeared from his face. Killian glanced at Emma who was looking worriedly at her son.

"I'm not defending him or anything but it's a fight, lad. A fight for survival, it's a kill or be killed competition." Killian said quietly. "He might have been trained to kill his competitors, but he did it to survive, like we all did."

Henry knew that even before his own reaping. He never understood why anyone could kill though, why anyone would want to take someone's life until he was inside the Arena himself. He tried not to judge his loved ones before that time but there was still this part of him though that wondered how they did it, how they could still function knowing they took innocent lives.. That part of him has learned to despise himself for the things he did in that arena. "I know that, I understand it now." Henry said quietly. He remembered how Peter thrust his sword into Regina though. He remembered how the light left his mom's eyes. He also remembered how he gently laid the body down on the ground then too. He remembered how he tried to imagine the pain she must have gone through. He always thought Peter Pan was evil for doing that to his mom. He used to, but now, he knew that the truly evil one is the government that controlled them, specifically, the president of Panem.

Killian turned quiet, not knowing how to move forward. "The next district is District 5." August said, grabbing the remote from Killian. "Meet Fa Mulan and Brienne Tarth. Both women are highly skilled in combat.  Great people though, very polite and honourable." August told them. Based from their pictures, they looked trustworthy but knowing Henry’s mother… she’d think that they’d be too good to be true. “Allying yourself with them, wouldn’t be too bad.” August said, stealing a glance at them. “They might be as ruthless as the other victor tributes will be but they're not as treacherous or spineless. They won't betray your alliance." August assured them. Emma didn’t seem convinced though.

"Moving on..." Killian frowned, grabbing the remote back from August. The session went on with little interruptions from Emma and Henry. District 6 Tibutes were nameless. They just called them wildlings. They were quiet and just... Quiet. District 7 had one remaining victor. She was the sister of Bran Stark who moved to District 7. Her best friend, Gendry was killed by Ramsay Snow. She hasn't forgiven the bastard yet for it. Or so the stories go. Arya Stark was the only person that Ramsay Snow and Reek Iron were afraid of. District 8 had Walder Frey who won because he was late to the feast and the other was Lysa Tully who was a bit knocked on the head. She watched her partner get decapitated and was never able to function that well. They were quite thankful that Killian can take it all still function like a human being.

District 9's Victor Tributes were as ruthless as the first district. Killian literally shuddered as he said their names: Viserys Targaryen and Roose Bolton. They weren’t threatening but they weren’t trustworthy either. They were vile from the looks of it. August, Mary Margaret and Killian agreed that they weren't to ally with them. As Killian said 'you'll have a better chance of surviving with a poisonous snake bite than being allies with them'. District 10 were the same as 9. They were on the do not trust list. Shae though was said to be loyal but Killian had his doubts. District 11, Roland's father, Robin Hood and Graham who Killian didn't really elaborate because he kept scowling at the screen then at his mom were in the tolerable list. "You, Henry, are the outsider. Your mum hasn't really made an effort to form alliances with any of them except maybe Graham." Emma sighed, rolling her eyes at Killian. Killian rolled his eyes. "Both of you need to take this more seriously."

"I am taking this seriously." Emma told him. "You're not the one who's about to get sent in there with your son." Emma figured it was easy enough to just not trust anyone at all. The least untrustworthy of them all were the ones from District 5 and District 3 but Emma doubted if they'd still have the same principles as before. "Do you think it's wise to trust this people?"

"I think it's better than going in there with no allies at all, my lady." Killian told her. "Not trust. Of course not; do you think I’m an idiot?” He sat on the seat opposite of Emma. “You don’t have to trust them to form an alliance with them. It’s not about trust, it’s about staying alive.” Killian pressed another button and the pictures were grouped in different groups. Henry was about to ask how they were going to do that. "Henry, you can get an ally, you're not the problem." Killian said, holding up his hand and then pointing at Emma. Emma frowned at him, giving him a look. "Alright, who do you think the bets are?"

"Not one of them." Emma answered honestly. District 1 and 2 were out of the question. District 3 and 7 were going to form an alliance because of the relationship of Arya and Bran. District 6 was a bit strange and a bit shady in Emma's opinion. District 5 was ideal but it was too good to be true. District 4... was also ideal but Henry might not agree because Peter Pan killed his mom, Regina. District 11 would be on the top of the list but she had to see first what was their situation, it was different now. It was a real fight to the end. The rest of the districts were too dangerous to trust. Killian gave her a look, with a roll of his eyes at him. "They're going to kill us any way. Why should I trust them?"

"Because it will keep you alive a little longer." Killian snapped. "As I said earlier, it's not about trust, my lady. It's about staying alive!"

The doors of the Lift opened Killian's words were still loud in his head. The idea of the parade didn’t take his mind off of it. He was dressed in the clothes that Rumpelstiltskin designed. They were comfortable enough but his nerves were making him uncomfortable. He walked over to their carriage, touching the horse's fur. It leaned into it and it made Henry smile. He gently petted it, somehow the creature could feel Henry's reservations. Henry's emotions made it antsy. "Sorry." Henry told him, soothing running a hand through its mane. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"Henry Mills." Someone called. Henry looked up and found Rolland's father moving towards him. "I've wanted to meet you for some time now. Never did I wish it be here though." Robin Hood said with a shake of his head. "Robin Hood. I believe you knew my son?"

"I... saw you during the tour." Henry said. He removed his glove and shook the man's hand. "Rolland is... He was my friend." Henry told him, his heart launched in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. This was Rolland’s father. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to apologise? Was he supposed to say sorry? "He was a really sweet boy. He saved my life. I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I wanted to..." Henry’s mouth opened and closed multiple times and he didn’t know what to say. He felt stupid for saying nonsense and he just wanted to crawl under a rock. The man in front of him was the father of his fallen friend. He was in front of the father of the child who sacrificed himself and all he could do was make a fool of himself. “I’m sorry.” All he could do was spur out nonsense and his words weren't even helping.

Robin's eyes softened and he smiled genuinely at the boy in front of him. "Rolland didn't choose wrong to ally himself with you, my boy." Robin said, patting Henry's shoulder. "You're a good lad. Not one of them could have given my boy peace. Thank you." Robin stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Henry. "I won't let my son's sacrifice be in vain." The memory of Rolland pushing him out of the way and then a spear piercing through him flashed through Henry’s mind and his blood ran cold. Rolland saved him.

Henry wanted to say something but he didn't know what. Robin smiled one last time at Henry before turning on his heel, leaving Henry alone once again.  "Henry Mills." He heard someone call. He turned around and saw Peter Pan walking towards him. "Catch." He threw an apple at the boy, and Henry clumsily caught it. "They're supposed to be for the horses but.... They'll be here longer than we will ever be, won't they? I say we eat what we want when we want it. Don’t you agree?" Peter asked, grinning at Henry.

Henry pursed his lips, his eyes falling on the apple. He didn't know why the older man was speaking to him. "I don't like apples," Henry told him, feeding the apple to the horse. He was quite surprised at how calm he is, considering that he should be angry right now. He should be raging that this boy had the gall to come near him when he killed his mom but he didn’t. Was it because he understood why the boy had to do it now? It wasn’t because he didn’t care because he did, so much. He still missed his mom very much so.

"Who doesn't like apples?" Peter asked, another apple in his hands. "But still, it's the same, isn't it? They're not the ones entering the Arena at the end of the week." Peter smirked, leveling the fruit with Henry's eyes. "You are exquisite, aren't you?" He said, his lips were still in a smirk. "Even after all of it, you're still naïve and still innocent." He moved closer to Henry.  "An apple is said to be the forbidden fruit. You're allowed to look at it, admire it from afar but never allowed to eat." Peter tilted his head to the side. Henry refused to acknowledge the thought of finding the older man attractive.

"I didn't think you'd be someone who'll be so fascinated with an apple." Henry said, petting the animal's head. Maybe if he shot down all his advances, Peter will move to another pair but that theory is disproved because he was still there. He could still feel the older boy’s gaze on him and it should unnerve him. But it didn’t. To be honest, Henry liked the attention the man was giving him. "I mean with all the money you have..."

"I haven't dealt with trivial things such as Money for a long time, my dear innocent Henry." Peter smirked.

Henry frowned, looking up at the man. "How do people pay for the pleasure of your company then?" Henry asked.

Peter looked down, a small smirk still playing on his lips. He moved closer, he didn't stop until he was just mere centimetres from Henry's ear. Henry could feel his breath on his skin, causing a slight tingle on the patch of skin then spreading through out his body. "With secrets." Peter whispered. "Tell me, do you have secrets worth my time, my sweet prince?"

Henry's eyebrow arched, before rolling his eyes at the maybe come on of the youngest to be victor. _No, Henry. You aren't charmed. You will not fall for it. This boy thrust a sword through your mother!!! **But he didn't have a choice but to do it, didn't he?** You always have a choice. **Right, like you did?** _ "Don't call me that." Henry told him, moving away but Peter only moved closer. Henry pressed his hand on Peter's bare chest (how did he not notice him shirtless before?), earning himself a smirk from the older chap. He knew his cheeks were glowing red and the smirk that this man was sending him just made it worse. He wished that the ground beneath him swallows him up. "I don't have secrets." Henry said, removing his hand from Peter's person like he was burned. He may very well be. Henry stepped back and but with the weird way the Universe works, it made him stuck between Peter and the District 12's horses. "I'm an open book." He said, regaining his voice.

"Hmm, but even open books have their secrets." Peter smirked. "They hide it between the lines, hidden in plain sight. Behind innocence and naivety." Their faces were centimetres apart, their lips almost touching. Peter moved and it was almost like he was going to press his lips on Henry's but he moved away. Peter took a bite of the apple, a smirk then playing on his lips. "Open books are good, no… actually the best at hiding secrets." He looked up and his smirk widened. Henry turned to see his mother and Killian exiting the lifts. They looked around. It took them a moment before spotting him with Peter. "Jones, Swan." Peter bowed slightly when he walked past them.

"Pan." Emma said, rolling her eyes at the younger boy. Peter has always been polite to her, decent. He would smile and greet her and Emma had to admit that the boy was charming. She didn't fall for it though. She looked at Henry, and tilted her head as she caught her son looking at (watching) the retreating back of the younger victor. "You okay?" Emma asked, turning Henry's attention to her. "Did Pan say something to you?"

Henry shook his head. "Where were you?" Henry asked, helping his mother up on the carriage. "You left even before I did."

"We just went to greet some people." Emma told him. Henry stepped up on the carriage. “Hey, look at me.” Emma touched his hand. “No matter what happens to me, remember who the real enemy is.” Emma said when Henry looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t forget, okay?”

Rumpelstiltskin then tapped his hand before he could ask what it meant. He looked at old man, silently asking him what he needed. Rumpelstiltskin shoo his head, handing him a small trigger. “Don’t press it until you’re ready.” Rumpel said, giving them a tight smile. Henry looked at Emma before looking back at Rumpel to give him a nod. "I want both of you to not look at the crowd, just straight ahead. Pretend they're all beneath you. All right, dearies?" Rumpel instructed, adjusting Henry's suit one last time. "You two look absolutely stunning." If Henry didn't know any better, he'd point out that Rumpel was being a bit mushy with them but he did know better. "Henry, stop fidgeting." Rumpel said, not bothering to look if he was right (of course he was). The doors opened and District 1's victor tributes left the holding area. "Chin's up." Rumpel said, patting them both on the back. One by one, the tributes were pulled out of the hangar.

Emma took Henry's hand, squeezing it as they left the holding area. The crowd cheered and they did as Rumpel requested. Henry looked up at the President though. He was looking down at them, a smirk on his lips. Henry took a deep breath and pressed the button and fire began to burn on their backs but like last year’s fire, it didn’t hurt them. Rumpel’s words began to repeat in his head. He said his designs reflected the fire in their hearts, their belief that there is hope no matter how hopeless a situation maybe. There was always hope and Henry will always believe there is. Henry was afraid that it’ll burn them the first time he wore it last year. Alice was amazed with them. But the longer it stayed on them, the longer it burned, the more confidence it instilled in Henry and the more the fire in his heart burned. He knew what was worth fighting for and he knew this games were just methods of the Capitol in keeping the fear of the 12 districts in check. Somehow the president feared that Henry represented the rebellion because of the gestures he made in the Arena. It gave the districts hope and people believed that hope is the only thing more powerful than fear and it was. But if Henry was being honest, the things he did in the arena weren't for the rebellion. He didn't do anything to show that he was for the rebellion. He just did it because he was human. He did it because Rolland was his friend. He did it because Rolland was an innocent party in all this. He did it because no one deserved to die in that Arena.

The parade ended they were all getting ready for the gathering for dinner. Emma heaved a sigh as they were pulled back inside the hangar. She jumped off the carriage with Killian making sure that she didn't fall. Henry didn't miss the look she threw at the pirate. He hid his smile behind his hand. His mother and Killian were sometimes a bit ridiculously sweet. "Emma, Henry, I'd like you to meet some people." Killian told them, leading them in the crowd. Killian and Emma’s hands were linked and Emma’s free hand was wrapped around Henry’s wrist. “Emma, Henry. I’d like you to meet Sean Herman and his wife, Ashley Boyd.” Killian said, gesturing towards the couple. Sean offered his hand to Henry and Ashley leaned forward to press her cheek against Emma’s. “The Herman Family has been long supporter of the _games._ ” Killian said, giving Emma a look. Sean cleared his throat, his eyebrows momentarily furrowing.

Henry shook the older man’s hand, not missing the look Killian gave Emma. He didn’t understand the look though. He didn’t realise that Sean has let go of his hand until Ashley used it to pull him in to kiss him on the cheek. “We’ve been watching you closely, Henry. You did well in the games.” Ashley told him. She didn’t use the tone people usually used when they told him that. It was gentle, more meaningful when she said it. Sean was smiling at him differently too. Not a bad differently but a good differently. “My husband and I will be rooting for you and your mom.” Ashley told him, she surged forward, wrapping her arms around him tight. Henry didn’t know what else to do but hug her back. He looked at his mother who was just smiling at them like it was some sappy scene from a show. Ashley let go and kissed his cheek again. “You’ll do good, I just know it.”

“Uhmm.” Henry wasn’t sure of what to say. He looked at Killian and then Emma, they weren’t exactly helping. “Thanks… I guess.” He smiled sheepishly at the couple before stepping back behind his mom. Emma draped her arm around him. She looked so proud of Henry and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand this meeting at all. Why did they meet this couple? Were they sponsors? Were they their sponsors? He wanted to ask but no one was paying attention to him anymore. He looked around and he saw Peter Pan talking to a group as well with his Partner in the Games. He said something everyone in their group laughed. The older man suddenly looked up and he caught Henry looking at him. He smirked and winked at him before turning back to the group. Henry could feel his face burning out of the embarrassment of getting caught at looking. Peter didn’t seem to mind that he was but still… It was embarrassing.

“We have to get going.” Killian told the couple, shaking their hands. They also shook Emma’s hand. Sean clapped a hand on his shoulder and Ashley just smiled pleasantly at him. “We’ll see you soon, yeah?” Killian told them. The couple left them and as Killian led them to the Lifts, they were stopped a few times to mingle and talk to the other sponsors and mentors. All three of them breathed a sigh of relief when they were safely inside the lift. They were finally going back to their rooms.

Henry had the pleasure of meeting Arya Stark in the lift. They were heading to their quarters when Arya stopped the doors from closing. Henry have always wanted to try doing that. But he’s never gotten the opportunity to do so. Arya was frowning when she stepped inside. "This is so uncomfortable." Arya huffed; she began removing accessories on her person as soon as the lift doors closed. "My stylist insists on representing the lumber from my district but who the bloody fucking hell cares?" Arya said, shaking her head at the thought. She let her hair down and wow, the confidence of this woman was overwhelming Henry in a good way. Henry couldn’t help but stare at her but averted his eyes when he caught his mom looking at him at the corner of his eye. He was just surprised. That’s all. Emma needed to take a chill pill. "Pleasure in seeing you again, Swan, Jones." Arya sighed, "Guess you're the shark bait?" Arya smirked at Henry.

Emma rolled her eyes at Arya. "Hey Stark; I see you haven't changed your stylist." Killian said, trying to be pleasant for Emma and Henry's benefit. Arya was nice and decent but she was a bit brash at the beginning. People needed to warm up to that kind of attitude. Killian found her to be charming and very nice to talk to. She was one of the people who you could never forget. Emma likes Arya except when she gets a little friendly with Hook but Emma wouldn’t say that out loud, not in a million years."You've been quite unhappy with him since your reaping."

"As much as I want to put an axe through his face, he's quite decent." Arya sighed. She removed her gloves and combed her hair to the side. "He's quite the drama queen, amusing to keep around." She reached behind her, trying to unzip herself when Henry unconsciously reached out and did it for her. He didn't miss the look his mother sent to him. Arya stepped out of her dress, just in time for the lift doors to open on her floor. Arya looked over her shoulder and winked at Henry. Henry knew his face was glowing but it was out of embarrassment out of everything. She waived her hands as she exited the lift. As she took a turn, she winked at Henry again.

"That's Arya Stark." Killian told Henry. “District 7, remember?”

Emma took a deep breath, shaking her head. "I have never been happier that you're gay." Emma muttered about Henry under her breath. Killian laughed at Henry's expense and the statement only made Henry’s cheeks glow brighter. He never thought he'll meet someone so confident that they could undress in front of strangers and walk around a hotel naked. It surprised Henry a bit. Judging by Killian’s reaction, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence to see Arya Stark being that way. She seemed friendly enough…

For the quarter quell, a lavish party was thrown in the name of the tributes. It was a masquerade ball. Emma was in a beautiful ball gown, escorted by Killian Jones who was wearing a classic formal tux. Henry was forced into the same suit but slightly less formal and uptight looking than the older man’s. It had a touch of the Capitol’s style which he didn’t know if he hated or abhorred… that meant the same thing, didn’t it? Henry sighed as he was pulled by August to different groups, introducing him various personalities. Most of the people there wore the eccentric style usually seen only in the Capitol. Henry didn’t hate it but it was quite… well, surprising? August was in one of Rumpelstiltskin’s Capitol wear that he seemed to be comfortable in. He didn’t put it against the older man. He had to fit in there for them. August smiled at him and gave him an encouraging nod as he shook another man’s hand and interacted with another group of socialites.

Everyone was in masks and Henry didn’t really know anyone to recognise them aside from his companions, of course. August was at his side until he disappeared with his mom and Killian. “All alone right now?” He heard a familiar voice ask. He didn’t turn around, hoping that it will go away but it didn’t. He knew he was still there. "Care to indulge me with your secrets tonight?" He heard the voice ask again. He turned around and found the attractive young man from earlier standing there with a rose in hand. "Or we can learn each other's secrets while we dance?" He said, tilting his head towards the dance floor. He had a mask on but Henry could tell that it was Peter Pan behind the mask.

"Is this your weird way of asking me for a dance?" Henry asked, pretending not to be charmed or the least bit intrigued by the man in front of him. Seriously, why couldn’t he just ask Henry for a dance and not be all swag-ged up in his asking? It’d be easier to turn down the offer if Henry wanted to (and he did… or he thought he did). Henry inwardly sighed. He lightly shook his head and looked for a waiter. He grabbed a glass of wine from the passing server before looking at Peter who was still smirking at him. _Does. He. Always. Have. To. Have. A. Smirk. On. His. Face?_ “Can’t you ask normally like other people?” Henry asked him, taking a sip of his wine.

“That wouldn’t make me stand out now would it?” Peter smirked. “I’m not really good at not standing out though.” Peter handed him the rose, smiling at Henry. “If I asked normally, that wouldn’t make you notice me, now will it?” Peter asked but his tone implied that he already knew the answer to his question. “Shall we, my prince?” Peter asked, bowing slightly while offering his hand to Henry.

“I don’t have any secrets to pay you for the pleasure of your company.” Henry said, accepting his hand.

Peter’s smile disappeared and was replaced with a smirk. Peter didn’t expect Henry to answer him with that. “I’m sure we can make an arrangement we can both be agreeable with.” Peter said, taking the glass from Henry’s grasp and placing it on the passing waiter’s tray. He pulled Henry to the dance floor, grinning down at him. Henry hoped that his cheeks weren’t as red as he felt they were. He was still holding the rose in his hand and Peter was holding his hand. “I want to get to know you.” Peter told him, Henry could hear the sincerity in his voice but he didn’t know if he should trust it. He shouldn’t but he wanted to. Henry looked up at him, his hazel eyes looking into green. It was a bit unnerving at how easily Henry could get lost in Peter’s eyes. They weren’t even _blue_. They were an attractive shade of green. It was the shade of green of the beautiful grass meadows in the country side. “My name’s Peter Pan.”

“I already know who you are.” Henry said, refusing to be charmed by the older boy. It was a losing battle but he refused to go down without a fight. He mentally scolded himself for thinking that it was a losing battle because it wasn’t… not until Henry gives up. _He wasn’t charmed_.

"Oh but you don't. You know what those screen in the victor tributes' rooms know about me but you don't know me, not really." Peter countered confidently. Henry had a feeling that the older boy expected that reaction from Henry. "Let's start over, shall we?" Peter asked. "I already told you my name; you have me at a disadvantage. You are?" Peter urged like a pre-school teacher talking to a toddler.

He shot a glare at Peter but it relented after a few moments passed. "Henry, Henry Mills." Henry said, giving in a little. Only a little, just a little. Peter wrapped his arm around Henry's waist tighter, pulling him closer than necessary. "Why don't you tell me your secrets, Peter Pan?" Henry asked, trying to gain some control in their conversation. “Do you have any secrets worth sharing?”

"Such a hefty price." Peter smirked. "If we only had more time, I'd gladly take you up on it. But sadly we only have tonight or the time you allow me to spend with you." They started to dance, moving in measured steps in the little space they had to move in. "How about you tell me something about you and I tell you something about me?" Peter offered. "We can ask questions if you like?"

Henry regarded him for a moment, before nodding, a gesture saying that he accepted the offer. "You go first." Henry told him.

“Why don’t we start somewhere basic?” Peter asked. He looked pensive for a moment. He looked like he was really thinking about what he was going to ask Henry. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know Henry. What if it was a trick? Henry was afraid it was and he’ll fall for it. He didn’t want to be stupid. “What’s your favourite colour?” He asked and Henry’s eyebrow arched. It earned him a chuckle from Peter. “That is a reasonably basic question, isn’t it?” Peter asked, his eyebrow arching as well.

“I used to like the colour red but now… I love the colour green,” Henry answered. The green of a healthy field and the leaves of healthy trees, he loved the colour green because somehow it represented life and vibrancy. “How about you? What’s your favourite colour?” He asked.

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm, I have to say Blue.” Peter told him. “Blue like the sky on a perfect day or the blue of the water of the ocean.” Peter elaborated. “Or the blue of the sky at night when all the world sleeps, where the stars shine bright.”

“You like feeling nostalgic, don’t you?” Henry looked up at him. “That doesn’t count as a question.” Henry quickly added. Peter chuckled again and nodded. “So, do you still remember all the people you’ve killed in the Arena?” Henry couldn’t help but ask. He needed to know though. The light in Peter’s eyes dimmed a little for a second before he nodded solemnly.

“I don’t think I’ll ask that one back because I already know the answer to that question.” Peter told him. “Did you know anyone I killed in that arena that day?” Peter tilted his head, looking in Henry’s eyes. It was like compelling him to be honest, like Peter felt like he was going to lie about it then again… Henry would have. Revealing the fact that Henry was still affected by Peter killing his mom would have been a weakness or not really, he didn’t really know. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He decided being truthful about the thing wouldn’t be that bad so he nodded instead of shaking his head. “Who was it?” Peter asked. He sounded really curious and interested.

“That’s two questions.” Henry told him before sighing. He bit his bottom lip. “It was my mom.” Henry said quietly. He could feel the confusion going through Peter’s head and chuckled. “Not Emma, obviously.” Henry said, rolling his eyes. “My other mom… Regina, Regina Mills.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed and recognition dawned on him. “Should I be apologising for that?” Peter asked him a heartbeat later. Henry could tell that if he said yes, Peter would. But he didn’t have to because he did what had to be done to survive. He was forced to do it.

If Henry was asked a year ago about it, he would have said yes. Peter should apologise because he stole Regina’s life. He stole the time he was supposed to have with his mom. He _murdered_ his mom. He participated in the games of the Capitol, he condoned it. He stood by while _innocent_ people got killed just for the pleasure of the people of the Capitol. But now that he understood what he needed to do live. He knew what it cost to be standing there with Henry at the moment.  He shook his head. “I didn’t always feel that way though.” Henry told him honestly. “I didn’t understand until I was in the Arena why you had to do what you did.”  Henry remembered how his mom died. The questions about Peter’s hunger games flooded in his mind and he didn’t want to know the answers to them. He wasn’t ready to hear the answers. “I don’t think I wanted to understand though.” Henry said, too much honesty will get you killed, he thought but he didn’t care.

Peter smiled sympathetically at the boy dancing with him. “No one would. You don’t really win in these games.” Peter told him. There was a moment of silence that passed through them. They were just swaying to their own beat of the music. Peter cleared his throat when he realised that they went a whole minute without talking. “So, whose turn is it?” Peter asked his fun and inviting tone coming back.

“I think it’s my turn?” Henry asked. “Yeah, it’s my turn.” He looked at Peter, trying to get rid of the images of Regina’s death in his mind. “What’s your favourite hobby?” Henry asked and he honestly felt a bit lame for the question he just asked.

Peter didn’t seem to think it was lame or Henry felt he didn’t or he just felt sorry for Henry for being so lame. “I like playing the flute.” Peter told him. “If you could spare me some time on the night before the Games, I’d be happy to perform for you.” Peter told him.

“Look at how cozy you two are.” A familiar low voice said. “I almost hate to break this up.” The voice said. Henry and Peter broke apart and turned to the origin of the voice. Peter tightened his hand around Henry’s hand. The old man removed his mask from his face to reveal who he was; as if Peter wouldn’t back down if he didn’t do it. Peter’s grip on his hand tightened a little. “I was hoping to have a few words with our youngest victor today.” President Snow told the District 4 Victor.  Henry saw the momentary shift in Peter's expression. It was brief but Henry was sure it was there.  “You don’t mind if I cut in, do you Peter?” President Snow asked politely.

Peter’s face was lit up with a smile, it wasn't like the smiles that Peter showed him earlier. This smile he was using looked dangerous and forced. The President didn't seem to mind. Henry was sure that President Snow what the smile said though, if the dangerous glint his eyes was anything to go by. “Of course not, sir.”  Peter looked back at Henry, bringing Henry’s hand up to his lips. It was a gentle brush against the soft lips but Henry would be lying if he said there weren't any chills that went down his spine at the gesture. “Can I hold you to that session, Henry?” Peter asked, looking at him. Henry didn’t know what else to answer except yes. He nodded and Peter smiled at him, the smile he wore when it was just the two of them dancing. “I shall be expecting you then. Enjoy the rest of the evening.” Peter told him.

Henry watched as Peter squeezed his hand before leaving him alone with the President. “You and Peter Pan seem to get along… I’d think that you’d hate him for what he did to your mother, Regina is it?” The President asked, handing him a glass of Champagne. Henry nodded slowly, taking the drink from the old man. “For a man who murdered someone so close to you, you were quite chummy with him.”

“He did it to survive.” Henry said quietly. _He might have been the one to stab the sword through my mom, but you drove him to do it._ “It’s a competition of kill or be killed.” He said. He looked… well, he tried to nonchalant about it but he knew he was failing.

“Do you really believe that?” The President asked, looking at the boy sceptically. “Because no one believes that you do.” He said, taking a sip of his drink. “You wouldn’t be here if everyone believed it.” The president said, smiling sardonically at the boy. Henry looked around and realised that everyone was ignoring them. “You, my boy, started something when you laid that child to rest.” The President told him.

“Are you going to kill me?” Henry asked.

President Snow chuckled, still sardonic. He looked around and smirked. “I could… but why would I?” Snow asked. “There’s no reason for me to end your life at this moment, young man.” He drank the remaining contents of his champagne. “No, tonight is about enjoying yourself. Eat, Drink and Enjoy.” He smiled, it was far from genuine though. The statement _‘while you still can’_ was delivered like a wrecking ball coming to destroy a building. President Snow didn’t have to fucking say it out loud for it to be heard by Henry. Henry’s hand shook and it wasn’t really surprising that he was actually afraid of what the old man was planning to do. He might not be in the arena a week from then but he still controlled the Games because he was the President. “I’ll leave you be, my boy. Have a good night.” The old man walked away and as soon as he was gone, Henry placed the champagne flute on the nearest table and went to find his mother, Killian and August.

“I hope you had fun at the party… You look pale, dear.” Mary Margaret said when he entered their penthouse. Henry didn’t think though, he just went to wrap his arms around his grandmother. He should have thought about his actions because it doesn't only concern him. Mary Margaret worries easily and he should have thought about that. “Henry?” Mary Margaret wrapped her arms around him tight, surprised at the sudden gesture of affection. “Did something happen at the party?” Mary Margaret asked worriedly. “Is your mom okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay.” Henry mumbled. He didn’t want to worry her but Mary Margaret’s hugs were calming and he needed to calm down now. The President's words... They were scary. He had a gut feeling that this games weren't just played out this because it was 75th Hunger Games. There was something bigger at play and he just didn't know what it was yet. “I think it just sunk in that I might be dead this time next week.” Henry told her in a light tone but the heaviness of the statement failed in making it seem like a joke. Mary Margaret's grip tightened around him. "I'm sorry. That was tactless."

Mary Margaret can't say anything to make Henry feel better about the situation because there was the huge possibility that he will die in that Arena. She didn't want to give him false hope. There was large possibility that Emma would die there too. She was going to lost her family and she can’t do anything to stop it. "It was." Mary Margaret told him, giving him a stern look. She made him look at her. "But we will do our best not to let it happen, okay?" Mary Margaret wrapped her arms around the boy again.

Henry and Emma walked inside the training centre. It was quiet save for the sound of the weapons slicing through the atmosphere of the room. The tributes were scattered through the stations, but only few of them were from the same pair. Henry looked at Emma and he didn’t notice the boys from District 4 looking at him, Emma did though. Peter Pan has taken an interest in his son and she had to admit that she wasn’t pleased that he was. She didn’t get why the boy was taking an interest in her son, of all people. Henry was attractive, sure, he was smart too, too smart for his own good at times in Emma’s opinion but never did Emma think Peter would be so charmed by him that here he was distracted by Henry instead of honing his skill with the tridents. Peter caught her eye and it was the first time that she’s seen the boy look embarrassed. The Peter Pan she’s managed to see the past years was a bit shameless. He was confident, he was much like Arya Stark but he had a certain swag that made his actions his own. He was also more clever and intelligent than most. It was no wonder Henry was charmed by him as well. Henry tried not to be, Emma knew but still, Emma knew Peter Pan was exactly Henry’s type. “Let’s spilt up.” Emma told him. “We’ll see who will be the best to ally ourselves with.” Emma said, looking around the room. “Then we’ll discuss it with Killian after the training session, okay?” Emma smiled.

Henry looked around, not knowing where to start. He didn’t know any of them. It wasn’t like they were in school that he could walk up to anyone and just strike up a conversation. First days in high school were easier than this and that was really hard for a new kid. At the corner of his eye, he saw Peter and his partner, Felix Croft standing by the tridents. He didn’t want to look Peter Pan because he knew once he did; it would be hard to avert his eyes again. Peter Pan was charming. Henry had to fight hard to not fall for it. He wasn’t even sure if he was able to successfully ward off the possibility because now, he felt drawn to the blonde. Well, ever since he first saw him personally, he's felt drawn to Peter Pan. "Mom, how are we supposed to trust this people?" Henry quietly asked. He knew that forming alliances will keep them alive longer but finding allies were easier said than done.

Emma didn't have an answer. Because Henry knew she has a hard time trusting other people too; she has a harder trusting people than Henry did. She was more cautious than Henry will ever be. "I don't know, but we'll see, okay?" Emma smiled at him. She could see the veranda where the sponsors where. Sean was there, which slightly surprised her. Killian somehow made it seem that he supported something else when he introduced them before. Sean caught her eye and gave her an acknowledging nod. "Come on, we'll discuss it later, kid." Henry took a deep breath before nodding.

Emma didn't do much looking. Graham and Robin were out of the picture because it seemed like they've already formed an alliance with the 2nd district. Teams that were left were Districts 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10. District 1 was out of the question. Killian said that it’ll be easier to find one than their own Hunger Games when she asked why; he answered that it was better if she didn’t know just yet and she let it go.

Henry was still looking around the arena when he found Bran Stark was with Jojen Reed by the swords. Jojen was talking while Bran did his best to listen and try to practice with the dummy provided by the centre. Henry had to admit that he was good. Bran was both graceful and light on his feet. Jojen seemed to be commenting on his footwork though because he was pointing to his feet. Henry took a deep breath before moving towards the couple. When he was near enough, Jojen turned to smile at him. “Henry Mills, yes?” Jojen asked, moving closer to Henry. He had his hand reached out to shake Henry’s. Henry still wasn’t used to being known by strangers. “Jojen Reed, this is my husband, Brandon Stark.”

“Nice to meet you.” Bran said, smiling pleasantly at Henry. Jojen let go and gave his husband a chance to shake his hand too. Their smiles at him were pleasant and genuine. It was like they just met at a random café and not in the training centre, training their skills. It was like they weren’t going to try and kill one another in less than a week. Henry could let it go to gain some real friends though... For the time being. “Were you looking to train with the swords too?” Bran asked his tone still pleasant and friendly. “If you like I can practice with you?” Bran offered, grabbing one of the wooden swords beside the real ones. “I promise I’ll go easy on you.”  Bran said, trying to lighten Henry’s mood.

Henry’s mind told him not to trust them but his gut said it was okay to trust them. Was his mind being too cautious? He should listen to his brain but the pull of his gut is greater. He took one of the wooden swords and chuckled. “Oh, don’t do that.” Henry said, mirroring the tone of Bran. It made the Jojen and Bran smile. They visibly relaxed and more comfortable than a few second before. “Attack me at your best.” Henry told him confidently. Henry was far from helpless. He will not be coddled. Bran nodded, Henry trusted that he won’t be going easy on Henry. He shouldn’t. They weren't even using real swords. They stepped inside the sparring ring. A force field slid up after them, preventing anyone from interrupting or interfering them. Bran took his stance and Henry did as well. Jojen was standing outside, his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching them carefully, a knowing smile on his face. Henry only noticed the resemblance of the boy to Peter Pan just now. The timer that appeared in a hologram. It began counting down and they were both watching each other. 5… 4… 3… 2…1. Begin.

Bran moved and Henry was lucky enough to avoid it. Bran tried again and Henry could tell he was just warming up. Henry couldn’t help but wonder what Bran will be like in a real fight. He didn’t want to be against this boy in a real fight. Henry saw an opening and began retaliating. Bran looked like he was having fun with Henry and Henry had to be honest that it was really fun. They weren’t doing it to have a go at each other or they wanted to hurt the other. They were just doing it to have fun. They danced inside the ring, going at every chance. Bran was really good, good was an understatement. He was extremely skilled in sword fighting, much better than Henry will ever be. Bran accidentally took a wrong step and Henry took advantage of it. He moved forward, hitting Bran gently in the stomach and striking him with his sword at the neck. Bran fell on his back, a grin on his face. Henry offered a hand to help him up. “You’re better than I expected.” Bran said, taking the offered hand. Henry shrugged before turning to leave the ring. He didn’t expect to see people there watching them though.

He bit his bottom lip and scratched the back of his head. He glanced at Bran who had a sheepish look on his face as well. They both got off the ring. Henry wasn’t going to admit it but he was silently pleased that among the crowd was Peter Pan. There was a curious smile on his face. It was similar to the smile he showed Henry when the lad responded to his statement unexpectedly. Was he expecting Henry to be weak and defenceless? The assumption of what Peter thought of him troubled him and he wasn’t exactly sure why. “I’m assuming you were trained before your hunger games?” Bran asked, placing the wooden sword on top of the table.

“A bit but not that much.” Henry answered. “My family didn’t really expect me to actually get selected.”

“None of our families did.” Bran told him. “Arya and I were lucky.”

“Hey, Bran, look.” Jojen said suddenly, making his presence known to the two boys. He nodded towards the veranda of Sponsors. Henry and Bran looked, Henry didn’t really see anything but Bran obviously did because he was looking back at his husband and he was smiling. “Do you see it too, Henry?” Jojen asked politely. “By the table, can you see?”

Henry’s eyes shifted towards the table and he could see by the edges something shimmering there. He turned to look at Jojen, tilting his head. “What’s that?” Henry silently asked. Jojen smiled, it wasn’t patronising or the smile that know-it-all’s used when someone asked a question that might have a very obvious answer. It was a kind smile, a kinder smile than the one Bran used earlier.

“It’s a force field.” Jojen answered just as quietly. Henry turned back to look at Jojen.

“Aren’t force fields supposed to be invisible?” Henry couldn’t help but ask.

“They are…” Bran told him. “But there are always flaws in the system.” Jojen nodded in agreement. Henry looked back at the veranda, watching the shimmering of the force field whenever it was unintentionally touched by the people inside it. He caught a man looking at him though. Henry didn’t know what to make of the look. It dawned on him who it was though. It was the Head Gamemaker Caleb Poulson. Killian introduced the man to him and his mother at the party last night. Emma and Caleb danced for a bit if he remembered correctly. Caleb nodded at him to greet him and Henry returned the gesture before turning back to Bran and Jojen.

He was looking at the swords again when he felt someone move to stand behind him. He tensed, gripping the wooden sword in his hand. The body moved forward, almost pressing himself against Henry. Henry whirled around; raising his weapon to whack whoever it was but a hand came up to stop it. He wasn’t going to admit it but he hoped that it was Peter Pan. He wasn’t going to admit that he was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t. Henry was now face to face with one Ramsay Snow. “Henry Mills.”

“I’m sorry, but could you let go of my hand?” Henry asked, trying to move away from the older man. He wanted to throw this guy off, Killian told them that this man was cocky but not stupid. Feigning ignorance of his identity wouldn’t do. Henry was thankful that he wasn’t pressed up against the shelf of the swords because if he was he wouldn’t be able to move. He tried to step away from Ramsay Snow but he wasn’t having any of it. Henry took a deep breath and tried to pull his hand away from Ramsay’s grip. “Can you let me go please?”

“The boy said to let go, Snow.” He heard a voice say. It was Peter. Why? Why was he here now? Was he saving him? Did he think that Henry needed to be saved?! Henry frowned, moving away from Ramsay Snow. Ramsay’s grip tightened ever more though. Peter’s eyebrow arched, he moved closer, taking the wrist of the hand holding Henry’s in his hand and gripping it tight. The blonde didn’t let go until it hurt enough to make Ramsay let go of Henry. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Peter asked icily. Ramsay frowned at Peter; his eyes looking threatening seemed to have no effect on Peter. Ramsay huffed before leaving them alone. “Did he hurt you?” Peter asked. Henry’s eyebrow arched and shook his head. He placed the wooden sword on the table before leaving the sword station and proceeded to another. Peter was following closely behind though. “Did I say something wrong?” He heard Peter ask. Henry shook his head again. Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. “I did, didn’t I?” Peter tilted his head to the side. He was trying to read Henry’s face and Henry knew how easy it was to read what Peter did on it. “You weren’t pleased that I interfered.” Peter said finally.

Henry shook his head again, confirming that Peter had it right. “I’m not helpless.” Henry said, moving away from Peter. “I had the situation handled.” Henry told him and he did. Henry did survive the Hunger Games last year. He did fight with other tributes last year. He may not have killed as many as the other Victors did but still he was able to survive his games. He wouldn’t be there if he didn’t. Henry didn’t know why Peter’s opinion of him mattered anyway. His opinion shouldn’t matter, his opinion didn’t matter.

“I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t, my prince.” Peter said, letting go of Henry’s wrist. He was smiling again. Henry took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. A thin boy then approached them. Henry recognised him to be Felix Croft. “I’m sure you know my partner. Killian would have briefed you already about the tributes by now.” Peter smirked.

 “That is what is to be expected of the pirate.” Felix drawled. “Henry Mills, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Peter here can’t stop talking about you.” Felix told him. The statement earned him a blush from Henry and an elbow from Peter. The reactions made Felix laugh. “You’ve somehow charmed my best friend, Henry Mills. With that I commend you.” Felix smirked.

“Oh my god shut your mouth.” Peter said, playfully shoving him away from them. “I’m sorry about him, Henry. He seemed to have managed to hit himself with the club his holding.” Peter told Henry, turning to look at him. He looked exasperated but fond. “Would you like to train with us for a while?” Peter asked him. “We’re about to head to the Hand to hand combat station.”

Henry bit his bottom lip before looking around the room to look for his mom. She was with Mulan and Brienne, talking with them. “Yeah, sure.” Henry answered, looking back at Peter. The answer instantly was responded with a blinding smile. One of the things Henry didn’t understand was Peter Pan’s intentions. He looked sincere. Henry didn’t feel like he was threat. Was that Peter’s plan all along? Henry didn’t understand. Peter was doing all these things that make Henry’s defences go up but yet down as well. He can’t decide what he was.

“Were you trained in hand to hand combat?” Peter asked him, pulling him back from his brain. Henry shook his head.

“There are other ways to get him on his back, Peter.” Felix said loudly from the opposite side of Peter. It seemed that the lad intended for Henry to hear him. Felix's smirk could almost rival Peter's. It was both devilish and kind of sexy. "I'm sure you know a lot of techniques to do it, mate." He draped an arm around Peter’s shoulder and pulled him into ruffle his hair. Peter groaned and shoved him away.

For the first time since Henry first saw Peter, he looked down right murderous right now. Henry was slightly taken aback. But it was gone and was replaced with an expression of pure embarrassment. Felix laughed when Peter threw him a glare. "Ignore him." Peter muttered. "I can show you a few pointers." Peter told him, going back to business.

"What do you get in return?" Henry couldn't help but ask. He really didn't want to but his mouth threw it out there before he could stop it.

Peter's eyebrow quirked up before he threw his back and laughed. Henry didn't understand why Peter seemed so surprised by his question. He should at least know by now that Henry isn't as naïve or as innocent as they think him to be. "The pleasure of your company." Peter said confidently. "That is more than enough." Peter then looked at Felix who was already in the ring, getting ready to fight him. "I hope you don't mind watching first?" Peter asked, walking backwards towards the ring. Felix rolled his eyes and lightly shook his head.

Felix raised his hands to his face as Peter turned to face him. Henry couldn't see the expression of Peter but Henry could see Felix's. He looked beyond amused. They moved in circles with one another. Felix moved and Peter mirrored his movements. There was a heartbeat and Peter moved and Felix mirrored him. Felix realised his mistake a little too late, Peter surged forward, taking him by the neck and dragging him forward. He drilled his knee into Felix's stomach and put him down.

"Felix, you're slipping." Peter smirked.

"Didn't want to embarrass you in front of your prince." Felix smirked back.

"Are you implying that I can't beat you?" Peter asked, his eyebrow arching.

Felix chuckled, shaking his head. "Come here, Mills." Felix said, waving him to come closer. Henry moved towards him. He was quite sure that they weren't going to hurt him, not yet anyway. Felix turned him around. He raised his hands to his eyes. "Watch his every move." Felix told him. "Or he'll rip you to shreds." He whispered in Henry's ear. "Remember, the body lies but the eyes do not."

"I don't understand." Henry said honestly, turning to look at him. Felix shook his head and nodded his forward, telling him to look at Peter and not at him. Felix let go of him, taking a step back. Right. How... How is that. There was a fast movement of hands and somehow he ended up on his back with Peter on top of him, his hands locked in Peter's. "How did you do that?"

Peter’s head dipped and for a second Henry thought he was going to kiss him. But he didn’t. Henry wasn’t disappointed, nope, he wasn’t. “You weren’t really paying attention.” Peter told him. He got off Henry and helped the lad back up again. “Felix, you’re a useless teacher.”

“Says the man who took him down. I gave him advice, not my fault he was too busy staring at you to pay attention to your movements.” Felix said, rolling his eyes at his best friend. The comment made Henry blush and Peter sighed, shooting his best friend a look. Felix just shook his head in amusement. “Why don’t I fight him and you teach him?” Felix asked.

They trained and Henry managed to enjoy the training sessions with District 4. He should put them in the list of probable allies but Henry just didn’t know for sure. He was torn between trusting them and just distrusting them. It was easy to do both. Peter intrigued him. He was nice. Felix was nice too, but can they trust them? Henry looked at his mother who was moving to another pair. Henry looked at Peter and Felix who were talking among themselves. They were discussing something about their district. He wasn’t listening anymore. He excused himself to go join his mother. “Can we move that thing we talked about later this evening instead of the last night?” Peter asked earnestly. “You might wish to spend that night with your family instead of me.” Peter told him as a matter of a fact.

Henry was about to say something stupid… something like no, he didn’t mind spending his last night with Peter but he kept his mouth and nodded. Because saying something stupid like that might get him killed or hit in the head by his mom or both.

"Would you be opposed to eating dinner with me as well?" Peter asked, before Henry turned around to leave. Felix scoffed something earning him a light kick in the shin from Peter. Peter's eyes were locked with Henry's, watching his every move.

"Dinner would be nice." Henry said slowly. "I don't mind eating with you."

"Excellent." Peter grinned. "I shall see you later then."

Henry plopped down on the couch, curling in to Mary Margaret as soon as they were inside their penthouse. "How was training?" Mary Margaret asked, wrapping her arms around Henry. "Found yourself allies?" She was mostly asking Henry because she still refused to talk to Emma about the Hunger Games.

"I liked District 3." Henry answered. _And District 4_. He added in his head. "They were pretty cool."

"We can't trust them." Emma said, taking a seat next to Henry. Mary Margaret shot her a look before sighing in agreement with her daughter. "They're husbands, Henry, they're going to protect each other first."

"Alright, that leaves who?" Killian asked. "Most of the tributes saw Henry's duel with Bran and they're certainly impressed with how he handles the sword." Killian told them. "Well?" Killian looked at the two, waiting for an answer. "Who did you like, Emma?"

"Not one of them." Emma said bluntly.

"Mom." Henry rolled his eyes, sitting up to cross his arms over his chest. "Killian said we need allies."

"Well, kid, we have each other." Emma told him. "I think that's already a good team."

"I'm going to tell them that you're still deciding." Killian said, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. He shot Emma a look which she returned with a glare. "With all the women you could fall in love with, Killian Jones, you choose to fall in love with her." He muttered under his breath as they left them to tell the other victors their decision for allies.

"I heard that." Emma said, an amused smile momentarily spread on her face as if she was familiar with the rant of the man. August reemerged with shopping bags in hands. "Well, didn't you go crazy with shopping?" Emma smirked, eyeing the bags he was placing on the coffee table. "I hope you bought something useful for us." Emma said, looking at her long time friend.

August rolled his eyes. "Well, I had a thought this morning." August told her, slapping Henry's hands when he made a grab of the bag in his name. "Not yet, Grabby." He said, pointing a warning finger at the young victor. Henry raised his arms in mock surrender. "Where was I? Ah, yes, I had a thought." August told them again. “We should show them all that we, all of us, are a team.” August said. “Where’s Killian?”

“What do you want now?” Killian asked, coming back through the door. “What did you do? Raid out the outlets while we weren’t looking?”

“You’re all hilarious.” August rolled his eyes. “I thought of what colour would represent our team.” August said, he reached for the bag nearest to him. “So I decided, a great colour would silver.” August told them, he looked at the name and threw the bag at Emma. “I picked a necklace for you three and for Killian and I, I gave us a bracelet or a band if you will.” He distributed the bags to them. Henry opened his and found a box inside. He opened it and found a very beautiful necklace nestled inside. “Rumpel had that designed especially for you, kid.”

“It means the Child of the Moon.” Henry said, looking at the design on it. It was a crescent moon that had a little star or a dot in the middle.

“Mine is a swan.” Emma said. “That’s original.”

“Well, you’ve always fashioned yourself as an Ugly Duckling, love.” Killian said.

“The swan represents something more than the Ugly Duckling.” August looked at all of them. “It represents Transformation as well as union and partnership. It also represents love. Or so Belle and Rumpel said.” August said. “I just chose the colour, Rumpel and Belle designed it.”

“Why is mine a ship and a hook?” Killian couldn’t help but ask as he examined the silver bracelet given to him. He didn’t get an answer. Mary Margaret didn’t question hers though. It was a key. “What, because people tend to call me a pirate?” He elaborated his question when he didn’t receive an answer. August sighed and held out his hand to take the band back since Killian was obviously unhappy with it. “What? It’s mine. Why are you going to take it?” Killian asked. “I was only asking why he thought of giving me this.”

“Then stop complaining about it.” August snapped. “How about we rest first before dinner?” August asked, looking at the time. “I’m sure you two are tired from training. So we’ll have dinner and we’ll talk more about strategy.” August told them, he plopped down next to Henry.

Henry was then reminded of Peter’s invitation. “Umm, can we talk about strategy tomorrow?” Henry asked.

“Why?” Killian asked, looking up from where he was examining Emma’s necklace.

“I kind of have plans?” Henry said awkwardly. He should have asked first before making plans but then again, it was just a friendly dinner between tributes… from different districts. One of who was the best charmer in all the lands and the other being the youngest victor in the games right now. The four adults in the room with him, all turned their attention to him, each of them having one of their eyebrows quirking up. “Could you guys stop looking at me like that?” Henry said. “It’s not like the first time I went out.”

“It’s the first date since you came back from your Hunger Games, though.” August said, smiling triumphantly. “I’m guessing it’s with another one of the tributes?” Killian looked amused but somehow a bit grim. Emma and Mary Margaret seemed disapproving. “Oh don’t look at him like that. It’s not like they’re going to try and kill him now. They’re not in the Arena yet.” August said, trying to soothe the parents in the room but it seemed like it was the worst thing to say because it only made them look more alarmed than before. “Emma had a feeling that she already knew who it was. Of course it was Peter Pan, who else could it be?

“IT’S NOT A DATE!” Henry snapped at them, a little louder than he intended. “It’s just dinner and hanging out.”

“You do realise that you’ll be going in the Arena with them in less than a week, right?” Mary Margaret frowned at her grandson. “I know you’re able to survive well enough in that Arena, Henry. I have no doubt about that but this?” Mary Margaret asked. She was looking at him like he disappointed him or something. It was irritating. “Forming a bond between you and any of the tributes except your mom is dangerous.” Mary Margaret told her. “Are you sure you’ll be able to set aside your feelings for this boy or girl or whatever when you’re in there?”

 Feelings? Why were they talking about feelings? Really? Did they think Henry was that stupid or well, that easily swayed that he’ll fall in love at a drop of a hat? “I just met him. There’s no feelings.” _Yet_. His brain added and he wanted to mentally slap himself for that. **_There won’t be feelings. I’ll be dead or he’ll be dead before that happens._** He told his brain. His brain just scoffed back at him. “Besides, it’s not a date.”

“You and him alone?” Emma asked, frowning. Henry nodded hesitantly. “Peter Pan?”

“Let the boy have his fun.” August told them, being the sound of reason. “Henry’s a grown man. I think he knows what he’s doing, don’t you kid?” August said, draping an arm over his shoulders. “He’s already an adult. He can make his own decisions.”

“Thank you, August.” Henry said, smiling gratefully at the adult. “It’s just dinner and a little performance from him, it’s no big deal.” Henry told them. “I’m not asking you guys for permission. I’m telling you I’m going.” Henry said and with that he headed to his room.

Peter was waiting in front of the lift when the doors of the said machine slid open. He was leaning against the wall, he’s arms crossed over his chest. Upon stepping inside the lift, Henry had half the mind in just having someone tell Peter that he wasn’t feeling well but that’s a bit of an obvious lie. Another problem in that scenario was that Henry wanted to go. It wasn’t because he liked Peter or anything… okay, he might like the man a little but it wasn’t the entire reason. Peter seemed so earnest earlier and Henry kind of trusts him. He knew how dangerous that was. Trust could get him killed but they weren’t in the Arena yet. Peter won’t try to do anything to do him, right? “I thought you weren’t going to come.” Peter finally said after a moment of silence. “I’m glad you’re here though.” Peter looked really sincere and Henry’s did the little fluttering it did. It was a mistake coming there, Maybe, his family was right. It was a mistake. _We both know you don’t believe that._

“Well, I can’t really say no if there’s food.” Henry joked. He looked around, compared to their accommodations; it was somewhat humbler and well… simpler. There were the decorations that said District 4 owned this apartment. There were tridents and pictures of ships and boats everywhere. Henry had to wonder if Tributes were allowed inside the apartment of another District’s. Were they breaking the rules? “Am I allowed to be here?” Henry asked, looking at Peter. “Cause you know, we’re not – “

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Peter smirked.

“The cameras will though.” Henry said, pointing at the noticeable camera at the corner of the ceiling.

“Stop worrying, will you?” Peter told him. “Relax, we won’t get into trouble.”

“But what if – “ Henry started, but stopped immediately when Peter shot him a look. “Like I said, lead the way.” Peter smirked, rolling his eyes. He led Henry deeper into the apartment. “Is Felix joining us?”

“No, he decided to turn early. I hope you don’t mind that it’s just you and me.”  Peter told him. They went through another threshold and they were in the dining room. The room was dimly lit, Henry could still see clearly though. There was a magnificent ship in the middle of the table and it was really beautiful. Over the years, even before his own Hunger Games, he was able to join the Victors’ Tour. His mother and grandmother refused to leave him behind. He stayed out of sight until he was around 11 or 12. He stopped joining the tour after he turned 14. He remembered the last time he visited District 4, peering out the window of his room. He could clearly see the beach. The ocean was breathtakingly beautiful and there was a ship there, a big ship that was somewhat similar to the one in the middle of table. The difference that the ship on the table had with the ship he saw a few years ago was that there were people on there. He remembered asking Killian if he could see one up close. Killian told him that soon, but not then because he wasn’t technically allowed to be there. Henry smiled at the memory. It was the first time that he let Killian in. He looked around the room and through the sliding doors, there was a large veranda overlooking the rest of the grounds of the President’s mansion. There was a small white couch there; the space was lit up by old fashioned lanterns. Peter turned to look at him. “Wendy said that it’ll be a beautiful night to eat outside, that alright with you?”

Henry didn’t have a problem with any of it. Henry just didn’t know if he still called this hanging out. Was his family right about this being a date? No, of course it wasn’t. In less than a week, they’ll label each other as enemies. There was no way that they will call this a date. “Yeah, it’s fine.” Henry told him. “The Penthouse doesn’t really offer this kind of facility, it’ll be a nice change.”

“Okay, then.” Peter said, opening the sliding doors. He walked out without another word. Henry followed him and sat next to him on the couch. “Why don’t we continue our game from the masquerade ball, do you remember whose turn it is?” Peter asked, pulling his leg up.

“I think you just wanted me here to learn my secrets.” Henry smirked, turning to face the older man. “I think it’s your turn.”

“I thought you didn’t have any secrets.” Peter took the wine table from the wine bucket and poured them each a glass. “So white wine or red wine?” Peter asked, handing the glass to Henry. “Personally, I like Brandy more.”

Henry took the glass. He took a sip and made a face after. He won’t ever get used to the taste of wine. He didn’t really understand why people like it so much. “More of a water or soda kind of person.” Henry told him. “Not much of a liquor person. I don’t get why people like it.”

“Ahh, well, that’s the only thing I have access to now,” Peter told him. “I’ll make sure to make a mental note for next – “ Peter stopped mid-sentence and his smile disappeared. Henry didn’t understand the look. It should disappointment but it was more of a look that said something like ‘I shouldn’t have said that’. Henry didn’t understand the sentence because it sounded like Peter was _so_ sure they were getting out unscathed. The only way for that to happen is for Snow to miraculously die. “Hmm, it’s your turn.” Peter told him.

Henry didn’t want to dwell in those depressing thoughts. He didn’t want to think about the Games tonight. “What power would you rather have, teleportation or flight?” Henry asked, taking another sip of the wine.

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. “That’s hard, why can’t it be both?” Peter asked.

“You only have to choose one.” Henry told him.

It was nearing midnight when Peter realised that they haven’t really gotten to the real reason why Henry was here. They spent all night talking and throwing question at each other and it was nice. They were careful not to stumble on questions that could lead to answers they could use in the arena though. Peter grabbed his flute from his room and he found Henry standing by the railings, under the moonlight and it rooted him to his spot. Henry was beautiful and everything he could ever possibly want and he just wished he met him long before this year’s game came to play. If only they met in another universe. There was a plan, of course. But like every plan there was a possibility that plan will fail and they’ll somehow manage to kill them all because of it. Henry turned around, a smile on his face. He didn’t want that to be the last time he sees that smile. No, he’ll do everything to protect this boy.

 “Jojen and Bran, it’s the first time you’ve allowed us to interview you two together.” Caeser said enthusiastically. Bran’s eyebrow arched before looking at Jojen. “You’ve been married for how long? 2 years already?” Caeser asked.

Bran nodded. “We’ve been married for the past 2 years.” Jojen answered, reaching out to hold Bran’s hand. “Ever since Bran’s name came out as a tribute in the 72nd Hunger Games, we thought it'd be proper to make sure that our love is eternal." Jojen said, squeezing his husband's hand.

"Both of you are so young." Caeser said. "But true love knows no age or gender, does it?"

Peter sat comfortably in the hot seat with Caeser fangirling next to him. Henry's eyes weren't glued to the screen, they weren't. "I hear you're quite smitten with one of the tributes." Caeser grinned at Peter. Peter tilted his head, a curious smirk on his face. Caeser recognised the inquisitive look and let out a huff of laughter. "You've always been a flirt Peter but from what our sources say, this one is different. He's charmed you, quite hard."

"Everyone is different, Caeser and special in their own way." Peter answered confidently. Henry couldn't help but roll his eyes as Rumpel tried to straighten his bow tie. "But Henry Mills... Well, he's an exquisite beauty that I only hoped I met long before these games occurred."

Caeser's eyes lit up again like a Christmas Tree. Peter Pan just admitted who it was. "It would have been a grand love story, wouldn't it?" Caeser asked, enjoying that he was the first one to hear about the famous victor's crush on the young victor and it was first heard on his show. A video of Peter and Henry talking before the parade appeared in a hologram. Peter grinned as he watched himself lean closer to the younger boy. "Wow, that's a really intense exchange, wasn't it?" Caeser asked the audience which everyone answered with a cheer but there were some sour reactions too. "Was this the first you've seen of our latest victor?"

"I saw him last year, Rumpelstiltskin did an amazing job to make sure that his district catches people's eye." Peter said a small smirk on his face. Henry figured that was the natural state of his very attractive face. His smirk and those eyebrows. Henry shook his head and tried not to let the thought of Peter Pan taking an interest in him sink in his head. He cannot like someone. He cannot like someone who was going in the arena with them. He can't like the threat to his life and his mother's life. "He's really quite charming."

"I can see he's really charmed you, and you're the best charmer in the 12 Districts." Caeser said. "Well, taking me off the table, that is." Everyone in the audience laughed. Peter let out a huff of laughter at the ridiculousness of the statement. Caeser didn't seem to get that impression though. Peter pursed his lips and composed himself. He, Peter Pan, looked rather at home in front of the camera. "If you could tell Henry Mills anything, what would it be?" Caeser asked

Peter pursed his lips, calculating. "I'm not exactly sure if he feels the same. I don't want to assume that he does." Peter said humbly. Bullshit. He knew. He knew he has managed to successfully charm Henry Mills. Caeser feigned surprise, he looked like he was planning on commenting but Peter opened his mouth. He looked directly at the camera. "It would have been a pleasurable journey to fall in love with you, my prince. _You're a breath of fresh, a breather I didn't know I needed._ If I were to die in that arena tomorrow, I wish my last memory will be your hazel eyes looking into mine." Peter smiled into the camera, as if Henry was in front of him and Henry absolutely refused to say that the gesture made him melt. He did not. He wasn't swept off his feet.

Henry was pacing in the waiting area when Arya's interview started. Arya look beautiful in a olive green gown. Unlike most of the tributes, her anger was really hard to mask. It wasn't like she was trying to. No, Arya Stark was a blunt woman. “You don’t seem pleased with the opportunity of playing in the games again, Arya.’ Caeser said, feigning concern for the girl. “Most of the tributes are crying but we can see that you’re not, you’re extremely displeased.” Caeser said, his eyebrows furrowing. Arya would be very pleased to punch him in the face. “Why is that?”

Arya looked at Caeser. Henry was almost afraid for the man on stage with her because she literally looked like she could murder him with the fire burning in her eyes. “They said that when I win my hunger games, I don’t have to deal with this shit anymore.” Arya said, not bothering to filter her words… Henry didn’t get the impression that she would under any circumstances though. "I can live my life in peace." She looked like the type of person who’d speak her mind and not care if she hurts anyone’s feelings because she was only telling the truth. “But now, they pull me back in with my brother and his husband because they are apparently bored with the regular games.” Arya gave a mirthless laugh. “You pull me and my family back because you want to kill us all over again!” Arya frowned at him. “Know what, fuck this!"

"Well, Arya..." Caeser said, sitting up. Peacekeepers then suddenly rushed to the stage and gently escorted the Victor off the stage.

It came to Emma and Killian's interview. The Capitol forced Killian join her there. "So I hear you two have finally moved to one house in District 12." Caeser started. Emma reminded herself that she needed to do this. "What made you finally move in together. After... So many years, what made you take that next step?"

"Oh, do you mean, besides the fact that we practically lived in the same house?" Killian joked. "Well, we believed we were ready. After Henry was sent inside the Arena last year, we realised that life is too short. We've already had years with each other." Killian looked at Emma lovingly. There wasn't anything fake in his look nor the look that Emma was giving back to him. “We believed we were ready.”

"I've always rooted for you two." Caeser told them. "But what about now? What do you feel that you're about to let her go to another round of the Hunger Games?" Caeser asked, leaning as if the gesture will make Emma and Kilian's urge to punch him in the face lessen. It didn't.

"I think we're all hoping for the best." Emma answered before Killian could open his mouth. It was a very dimplomatic answer. It was an answer he never thought he will never ever hear his mom say. "I'm just hoping that  whoever wins, will be deserving.”

And then it was Henry's turn. He sat there, his back rested on the back of the chair and he could feel the other tributes’ eyes on him. It was still a commercial break. He wished that it went on until the end of Caeser's time slot. He didn't like Caeser's interviews that much. He didn't like Caeser all that much either. He was the worse version of Sydney. "So Henry, how are you feeling tonight?" Caeser asked as his make-up crew retouched his make-up.

"Fine." Henry answered curtly.

Caeser batted the crew off of him and turned to look at Henry. "You gotta give me something more than that, Henry." Caeser said as if the cameras were rolling. And they were after a few seconds. "Now we're back with Henry Mills!' Caeser said to the crowd, the stage lit up again and it honestly hurt Henry’s eyes. He inwardly sighed and just hoped that it’ll all be over soon. “How are you tonight, Henry? Excited?”

Henry just smiled. “As much as you will be if you were in my position.” Henry smiled, and Henry was proud at the momentary silence he got from it. Caeser was rarely speechless and he made it happen, he mentally gave himself a pat on the back.

“Well, then! You’re pretty excited then!” Caeser said, trying to regain his footing. “So, what a week, we all know that you and your mother scored the highest among the tributes and what do you have to say about that?”

“Guess it’s in our genes.” Henry shrugged. Caeser went through all the typical question, what is like being back in the Capitol, does he think he’ll survive the Hunger Games. Henry resisted the urge to get up and leave. Although it was so strong.

Henry expected Caeser to end the interview and he was quite thankful that he didn’t bring up Peter’s confession but he should have known better. Caeser cleared his throat before venturing on the topic. He was waggling his eyebrow at Henry, as if expecting Henry to know what was going through the interviewer’s head. "I think we all know the question in everyone's minds tonight." Caeser said, grinning at the crowd before turning back to the younger boy on stage with him. “Before we have end this interview… do you have anything to say about Peter Pan’s earlier confession?” Caeser asked. Henry inwardly sighed again, trying to count to ten before he opened his mouth.

“I guess the answer wouldn’t really matter now.” Henry said, sadly. It earned him a few aww’s and sympathetic cheers. “Because now, no matter how our story goes… it’ll end in a tragedy won’t it?” Henry asked, looking back at the tributes, his eyes scanned the front row and stopped, locking eyes with Peter. He smiled at him and hopefully, Peter knew the answer. He liked him too.

Peter entered his study and found President Snow standing by the windows, a pensive look on his face. "An exquisite beauty he is, isn't he?" President Snow asked, not bothering to turn around to look at him. "It's been a while, hasn't it Peter?" President Snow asked, turning his head to smirk at him. Not long enough in Peter's opinion. Why was he here? It's the night before the start of the Hunger Games. What was he doing here? "What kind of game are you planning to play this time, my boy?" Peter was gripping the door knob tight. He, the president, moved to sit in Peter's chair, watching the boy closely. "You're not playing a game though, aren't you? You do like this boy." President Snow smirked. Peter didn’t speak or answer. President Snow sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not here to ask of your service."

"Are you here to force for it?" Peter couldn't help but ask.

President Snow smirked, rolling his eyes. "Your activities with those men and women were done willingly from what I remember, My dear Peter." It was done willingly because his brothers were helpless then, they didn't know what to do. They were defenceless. He did it willingly because the Capitol said they will kill his brothers if he didn't. He didn't have a choice but to agree, to do it willingly. "Do you think Henry would have done it as willingly as you did?" President Snow asked. Peter's grip on the doorknob tightened. "He's quite popular, you see, almost as popular as you." It wasn't the thought of Henry being sold to men and women for money. It was the thought of a boy, a mere boy like Henry being given the same treatment he did. The thought of it being Henry made Peter's anger flare even more.

"You wouldn't dare." Peter snarled.

President Snow placed an orb on Peter's table and as it did, a hologram video of Henry bringing peace  to Rolland Hood last year. "Such a heart this boy has, doesn't he?" President Snow sighed. "He would have been more famous than you, you know. If only he wasn't such a threat." He sighed again. "Do you know why we're having the hunger games, Peter?" President Snow asked, looking into the boy's eyes.

Peter rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't in the mood with this man's games. If he only could, if he only could shoot this man point blank then it'll be over. If he only could. He had the courage to do so, he could do it but the people he worked with didn't want to, not yet. "You want to remind the 12 District that the Capitol is unbeatable." Peter deadpanned.

"Quite right." President Snow smiled that sinister smile that always gave Peter the chills. The older man looked back at the video. "The minute he placed that flower down, he sent a message, a reminder." President Snow told him, pointing at the scene Henry started gathering the flowers. They weren't meant to watch it but it was too late, it was already streaming through the holograms throughout the 12 Districts. "The minute his lips touched Rolland Hood, he began destroying the foundation of what my government has worked so hard to build."

"It's a weak system then, if its downfall is caused by a small vine." Peter said, looking at his nails.

"Oh, it is, my boy.” President Snow sighed. “It is a frail system held together by the seams.” He said, making hand gestures that would show exactly that. “Do you know what’s stronger than fear, boy?” President Snow asked.

“Love?” Peter asked, trying to move the conversation along.

President Snow smirked but shook his head. “Love is the essence of fear, dear child. Has your past taught you nothing?” President Snow smiled again. “This boy reflects love… and belief, hope.” President Snow pressed a button and the device was turned off.

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter asked. “Why are you here?”                                                                            

"But we both know I would dare." President Snow smirked, moving towards Peter. He cupped Peter's, smiling at him. Peter was a demon, he was mischievous and playfully and evil but Snow? He was so much more than Peter was. He was the devil. "If he weren't chosen." Snow laughed in his face. "Such a waste, really." He sighed. "All of you will be in the arena, such a waste." He said, feigning disappointment but he looked anything but disappointed. He looked joyed.

"You're a sick bastard." Peter tells him, pushing the President off of him.

"Henry has innocence that you never had." President Snow told him. "I quite like that about him." President Snow placed the orb back on the table, pressing another button on it. It showed a video of Peter and Henry the other night. He left Peter in his study, a silent threat hanging in the air. He then realised that President Snow intended them to die in that Arena, all of them. There won’t be victors this time. The President intended them to be wiped off. He approached his desk and looked at the video. He smiled as Henry threw his head back laughing. He heard the door open. He didn’t have to turn around to know who were standing just by the threshold.

"Did he say something to you?" Felix asked.

Peter turned the orb off, wrapping a hand around it before turning to face his best friends. “We need to talk to the Pirate.”


End file.
